


touch

by wonuza



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Dressing Room Sex, M/M, Wall Sex, yeah.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 11:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15484923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonuza/pseuds/wonuza
Summary: sometimes kwon soonyoung needs to get railed against a wall: the fic





	touch

**Author's Note:**

> was this the literal first thing i thought of after seeing soonyoung’s ideal cut solo? yeah  
> has it been plaguing me ever since? yeah  
> do i regret it? maybe  
> can i EVER write snwu not being soft and affectionate and in love, even when they're just boning? NO  
> is the title a cop out? titles are hard and as i've just found out titles for smut are even harder so YEAH

Wonwoo manages to catch Soonyoung in the dressing room before he’s gotten out of the costume from his solo performance, just as he’s taking his boots off. He meets Wonwoo’s eyes in the mirror when he hears the door open, and when Wonwoo sees there’s no one else in the room he drags a chair in front of the door—it doesn’t lock, and he needs to take precautions. Soonyoung notices and Wonwoo sees his mouth twitch almost into a smirk—almost. “Nice outfit,” Wonwoo murmurs when he sidles up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Their eyes lock in the mirror again, and Soonyoung does smirk then. Wonwoo’s gaze drags down Soonyoung’s body—he looks, frankly, outrageous, with his stupid tight pants and all these rings and this sheer thing and that fucking _harness_ and Wonwoo’s been suffering with half a boner ever since he caught a glimpse of him backstage right before he went on. (Soonyoung had winked at him, right in front of half the group, so naturally Wonwoo feels as though he has a score to settle.)

“Did you like my song?” Soonyoung asks innocently, grinning as Wonwoo sneaks his hands under his shirt to grip his waist.

He gives him a light pinch. “You told me it was Hurricane again.”

“Maybe I wanted to surprise you,” Soonyoung says, glancing toward the door as a snippet of loud conversation moves past on the other side. They have some time before Soonyoung needs to be changed and presentable—but not much. He turns around, leaning back against the counter. “Is that a crime?”

“Of course not. It was good. You look good, Soonyoung-ah.” He makes sure to coat his voice in honey, but leave just enough of a (fake) teasing edge to make Soonyoung shiver. Wonwoo steps closer and absentmindedly toys with the metal ring hanging off the collar fixed around Soonyoung’s neck. Once he’s crowded into Soonyoung’s space, Soonyoung squirms a little, hips shifting and drawing attention to those pants again. He looks up at Wonwoo through his lashes, breathing slightly harder already. Wonwoo watches him swallow, his throat moving underneath the leather of his collar, then leans in further, lips against Soonyoung’s ear. “Really good.” Lazily, he hooks a finger behind one of the straps of the harness. (They’re fastened loose over Soonyoung’s shirt, and Wonwoo is only able to resist tightening them because of the immediacy of the situation.)

“Thank you,” Soonyoung murmurs, almost under his breath, sliding his hands up Wonwoo’s arms to rest on his shoulders.

One of Wonwoo’s hands raises to the collar again, and he lightly runs his fingers over it as well as the exposed skin of Soonyoung’s throat. “You’re welcome.” He moves the hand to the back of Soonyoung’s neck, curling his fingers into the collar—starts to pull it backwards, tight against Soonyoung’s throat—

“I have to sing, Wonwoo.”

So Wonwoo drops his hand with a sigh, pouting for a second before he decides instead to unbutton those awful, sinful pants. “Gotta dance, too,” he says. He drags the zipper down as slow as he can. “Want me to stop?”

Soonyoung shakes his head immediately. Usually when they’re doing this whole teasing, competitive thing, Soonyoung likes to draw things out, see who cracks first (more often than not, it’s Wonwoo, which is probably why Soonyoung likes it so much.) Wonwoo guesses it’s a testament to how little time they have that he foregoes that. Unfortunately, Soonyoung’s pants are not as worried about the issue of time—he’s worn these before, for a different performance, but Wonwoo had had his own schedules that day and hadn’t gotten the privilege of peeling them off him. Now that he has, he might— _might_ say they’re too tight to be convenient no matter how good Soonyoung looks in them, with how much effort and time it takes wrangling them down over Soonyoung’s thighs, but, well. He looks really good. They are _so_ tight. Soonyoung hums happily when he’s out of them, settling back on the counter.

“Everyone who saw you tonight will have thought about this, you know.” Wonwoo wastes no time getting his hand down the front of Soonyoung’s underwear and Soonyoung’s lips part. “Getting you out of those pants. Getting you hard.” Soonyoung’s brow furrows just barely. “Making you come.”

In an instant, his expression goes smug. He nods slowly. “I know.”

“You know,” Wonwoo repeats. He crouches between Soonyoung’s legs and slides his hands up his thighs. “And who exactly were you imagining would be doing this to you?” he asks as Soonyoung lifts his hips so Wonwoo can pull his underwear down.

“You,” he sighs, sounding mostly unbothered—though his fingers finding their way into Wonwoo’s hair and combing affectionately through it give his actual feelings away. Wonwoo’s mouth latches onto the skin of Soonyoung’s knee, and he shifts again, spreading his legs further so Wonwoo can leave a trail of kisses up his inner thigh. “But if you don’t hurry up I guess I’ll have to wait.” There’s a tap on the top of Wonwoo’s head and he looks up to find a condom being waved in his face. He snatches it out of Soonyoung’s hand with a scowl. “Or maybe I’ll just find someone else to take care of me later.”

“Ha.” He watches as Soonyoung, beaming, produces a bottle of lube from somewhere and then he grabs that as well. “Cute.” Soonyoung’s looking so so _terribly_ smug now, so Wonwoo stands and takes Soonyoung’s cock in his hand, loosely stroking him, slow enough to drive him crazy. “Prepared for everything, haven’t you?”

He shrugs, but Wonwoo hears the slight hitch in his breath and the waver in his voice when he speaks. “Just had a feeling you might react this way.” Wonwoo doesn’t respond right away, instead pushing the fabric of Soonyoung’s shirt up to his chest underneath the harness, biting his lip at the way the leather lays over his skin, his cock straining up toward where it wraps around his waist. He looks his fill, eyes and hands traveling hungrily over Soonyoung’s torso and chest, and finally reaching behind Soonyoung's neck and taking the collar off him before he replies.

“And what way is that?”

“Jealous.”

For that, Wonwoo pinches one of Soonyoung’s nipples, making him whine, loudly. He moves like he wants to grab Wonwoo and pull him close, but Wonwoo steps back a pace, out of his reach, and Soonyoung pouts a little, panting. Wonwoo sees Soonyoung’s tongue poke out to wet his lips, eyes dark on Wonwoo’s hands as they move to undo his pants. “Well, according to you I’ve got no reason to be jealous,” he says as he rolls on the condom and slicks himself up slowly. Still, Soonyoung watches silently. “Do I?” Soonyoung doesn’t answer, but tears his eyes away from Wonwoo’s dick to quirk an eyebrow at him.

Wonwoo tilts his head to one side just before grabbing Soonyoung by the hips and pulling him roughly to the edge of the counter. He hears the sharp intake of breath it causes and smirks. “Do I, Soon-ah?” he asks again, reaching down to line himself up with Soonyoung’s entrance.

Soonyoung exhales hard through his nose when the head of Wonwoo’s cock presses against him. “You don’t,” he answers finally, through gritted teeth.

“Tell me why,” Wonwoo says, pushing inside him easily. Soonyoung makes a quiet little noise, mouth dropping open, and Wonwoo presses further, slowly, until their hips are flush against each other. He holds still a moment, breathing deep—Soonyoung’s used to him, but he gives him a second to adjust anyway. If they were in a bed, Soonyoung would probably tease him for being so worried about hurting him—but they’re not in a bed, they’re in a dressing room, in a vaguely uncomfortable position, with too many hormones and not enough time. Soonyoung’s looking up at him, heavy lidded eyes and pouty lips—it’s stupid how delicious he looks. Wonwoo leans in as close as he can, feeling Soonyoung’s breath on his lips, but doesn’t kiss him. “Tell me why.”

There’s a shaky intake of breath before Soonyoung tries to speak. “Because—because—” Wonwoo hoists him up by the backs of his thighs, impatient, maneuvering him off the counter and slamming him against the nearest wall, making the metal bits on his harness clink and jingle. “Shit, fuck, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung says, airy and sweet as he hooks his legs around Wonwoo’s waist. (They’ve basically mastered wall sex by now, with how infrequently they have access to both privacy and a flat surface suitable for fucking—it’s a handy skill to have, and Soonyoung _really_ loves it, so Wonwoo thinks it’s worth how extra badly his muscles will be aching at the end of the night.

“Give me a reason, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says as he takes a second to make sure Soonyoung’s sufficiently braced against the wall, and then starts to fuck him with long, deep thrusts that have Soonyoung’s eyes fluttering closed. “Why shouldn’t I be jealous when you’re out there looking like this?” Soonyoung’s shaking his head for no apparent reason, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and Wonwoo moves forward to nip at his earlobe. “Those dancers were awfully close,” he whispers.

Really, Wonwoo doesn’t care about the dancers, or the lyrics, and certainly not other people looking at Soonyoung—he’s used to that, and he definitely can’t blame them. But he _does_ like hearing Soonyoung reassure him every now and then, even if it’s unnecessary.

...Also, sometimes Soonyoung just really needs taken down a peg, and Wonwoo being blindsided with tight pants leather harness sexual slutty dancing action absolutely qualifies as one of those times.

“I...because no...no one…” Soonyoung’s trying to answer, but he’s already gasping and tightening his legs around Wonwoo, forcing him deeper. Wonwoo bites back a moan and picks up speed; Soonyoung whimpers, his hands scrabbling up to clutch at Wonwoo’s shoulders. “No one else gets— _ah_ —gets to fuck me like this,” he pants, voice rising steadily in pitch. “You’re the only one who—oh, oh my _god_...” He trails off with a broken little whine and his hands creep up into Wonwoo's hair as Wonwoo’s thrusts get harder. Wonwoo has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from losing it over how adorable he is and betraying the whole _thing_ he’s got going by smiling and cooing at him. 

“Keep talk—” Wonwoo cuts himself off with a groan when Soonyoung’s fingers curl tight into his hair and _pull;_ his jaw drops and his eyes close at the sting of it and his composure falters, allowing the heat of Soonyoung enveloping him to overwhelm him suddenly and completely. "Fuck, Soonyoung." Soonyoung's looking at him when he opens his eyes again, and he pulls Wonwoo in close before kissing him, altogether too soft and affectionate for the current circumstance. As soon as he pulls back, Wonwoo shakes his head, getting himself back in the proverbial zone. “Keep talking,” he nearly growls.

For a second Wonwoo can see Soonyoung struggling to clear the haze of sex from his mind so he can speak, and once he does everything comes spilling out in quick succession. “You’re so good, Wonwoo, nobody else knows what I like, you’re the only one I ever want like this, you always—” Wonwoo sinks his teeth into Soonyoung’s shoulder, satisfied with his answer, and Soonyoung wails, curls his arms around Wonwoo’s neck. It makes Wonwoo smile, hidden against Soonyoung’s skin, and he takes it as an opportunity to enjoy how good Soonyoung feels, pressing his face into his neck and listening to his increasingly desperate noises before meeting his eyes again.

“Soonie,” Wonwoo croons, slowing his thrusts momentarily. “Are you close yet? Want me to touch you?”

Soonyoung’s face sets into determination. He shakes his head. Wonwoo almost rolls his eyes, not out of exasperation, but just from how _Soonyoung_ it is. Of course this is how he wants to play it.

“No?” Wonwoo asks, and Soonyoung bites his lip. “That’s not what you said in your song. Are you sure?” He nods furiously and squeezes his eyes shut. Wonwoo returns his mouth to Soonyoung’s throat, sucking and biting and making him whimper shakily. “Suit yourself.”

So Wonwoo slams into him as hard as he can. Soonyoung sobs Wonwoo’s name, repeating it over and over as Wonwoo fucks him relentlessly, hard and fast until the only noises he’s making are these short, hitched little whines and his mouth hangs open prettily with his eyebrows drawn up in pleasure. Wonwoo doesn’t bother to stifle the groan that rips out of him at the sight.

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung manages to force out, this exhausted, breathy little sigh so quiet Wonwoo probably wasn’t even meant to hear it. He can’t resist licking his way up Soonyoung’s neck to his lips when he does, licking into his mouth when he gets there. He smiles, genuinely, and Soonyoung smiles back, starry eyed, blinking slowly—Wonwoo decides to slow down and shed whatever game they’re playing, just for a second.

“You were so sexy out there, babe,” he says, voice rising in pitch now from how close he's getting. He leans his forehead against Soonyoung’s. “You did amazing.”

Soonyoung grins, almost shyly (grinning shyly despite having Wonwoo’s dick literally in his ass is kind of Soonyoung’s specialty.) “You think?” Wonwoo nods breathlessly. Soonyoung strokes Wonwoo’s hair, his cheek, his jawline. “You know it was just for you,” he says, small and sincere. Wonwoo’s breath stutters, his grip on Soonyoung’s thighs tightening, pace becoming erratic. “Touch me?”

It takes no time at all for Soonyoung to start to unravel under Wonwoo’s fingers, but Wonwoo’s senses overload from Soonyoung’s desperate moans and Soonyoung clenching around him and how tightly Soonyoung is clinging onto him and Soonyoung’s voice in his ear saying _yeah Wonwoo come on Wonwoo come for me_ and he comes first with a ragged moan, biting down hard where Soonyoung's neck meets his shoulder again, hearing him gasp and cry out. As his hips slow to a halt, he straightens up to find Soonyoung beaming at him and cupping his face to kiss him softly. “I win,” he says against Wonwoo's lips, voice cloying and dreamy and dripping in self satisfaction. So much for taking him down a peg, but Wonwoo doesn’t have the strength to fight back—literally, his arms and his thighs and his back are all screaming, so he just kisses Soonyoung some more and jerks him off as fast as he can. Soonyoung shakes and gives this tiny little sob into Wonwoo’s mouth when he comes, like he doesn’t have the energy for anything else. Wonwoo finds himself smiling, then sighing, then kissing Soonyoung’s cheek and holding him up against the wall for another second or two as he listens to his breathing even out.

Soonyoung laughs breathlessly once it has, and smacks lightly at Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Put me down, I know you’re too weak for this.” Wonwoo does, gently, and Soonyoung leans back against the wall immediately to steady himself. Stepping back, Wonwoo looks down to assess the damage—it’s not bad, honestly, he’s disheveled but it’s nothing he can’t fix fairly quickly. Soonyoung, though, is a different story altogether, so he hurriedly grabs Soonyoung’s next outfit from where it’s draped over the back of the couch and holds it out to him. Soonyoung laughs again. “Okay, okay, cool your jets, buddy.”

He cleans himself up much too casually and leisurely; first his body so he can pull on some fresh underwear and pants—and then he turns his attention to his shirt and mostly the harness, wiping it as best he can. “Our poor stylists,” he sighs, and Wonwoo looks toward him from where he’s been smoothing down his hair in the mirror and snickers. “Help me get this off.”

With his hair as good as it's going to get, Wonwoo steps over as Soonyoung is fighting fruitlessly with one of the buckles. “We need one of these we can have some actual fun with,” Wonwoo says offhand as he unbuckles the harness, looking at it almost longingly before tossing it away. After pulling his shirt off, Soonyoung shoots him a look.

“Are you saying that wasn’t fun?”

“You know what I mean.”

Soonyoung gets his clean shirt on and turns to the mirror to button it. “I kind of doubt we could casually ask where they— _Wonwoo_ ,” Soonyoung whines when he catches sight of himself. He pokes at one of the bruises blossoming on his neck and winces. “ _Why?!_ This looks like a fucking crime scene...” Scowling, he rounds on Wonwoo and jabs one finger into his chest. “You know better.”

Dragging his fingertips down the side of Soonyoung’s neck, Wonwoo grins evilly. “Oops.” To be fair, the mark in the crook of his neck is _big_ and looks painful—Wonwoo hadn’t meant to bite him _that_ hard. At Soonyoung’s stern glare, he sighs—even buttoned all the way, the shirt won’t hide the numerous hickeys on Soonyoung’s neck. “Fine, come here, I’ll fix you.” Soonyoung lifts his chin to present his neck as Wonwoo quickly grabs some makeup from the counter. “I really hate hiding these.”

“Well, if someone didn’t have such an oral fixation…”

Wonwoo shakes his head, sighs, and starts covering the marks he left. “Aware it’s my fault. Still hate it.”

“Uh-huh. _You_ can explain it to the public when I suspiciously appear covered in hickeys halfway through the concert, then, pervert.” He tilts his head, flinching a little when Wonwoo’s hand gets a little too heavy on his fresh bruises. “ _And_ my parents, for that matter. You know they’re here tonight?”

He had not, in fact, known that. “Interesting choice of solo to perform for your parents, baby,” Wonwoo mutters, teasing. Soonyoung wrinkles his nose in amusement, then perches on the counter again, hissing slightly as he settles his weight on it. Wonwoo cocks an eyebrow at him. “Sore?”

“Oh _please,_ ” Soonyoung huffs loftily. “You of all people should know. _I_ take dick like a fucking champion.” Wonwoo snorts. “What, you’re gonna argue?”

“No. Hush. You just make me laugh.” He pauses, powder puff in hand, to smile down at Soonyoung and kiss him once. “I really love you.”

Soonyoung narrows his eyes and tries not to smile, not without a hint of a flush creeping up on his cheeks. “I love you more. Now focus.”

**Author's Note:**

> blame the pants


End file.
